Friday, August 17th

On Friday morning, after an early breakfast, we went round to the Arab bus station and caught the crowded 8 o’clock bus to Tiberia. Although we were going all the way, we only booked to Nazareth, in order that we might break our journey there and have a look round.

The road climbs out of Jerusalem over the shoulder of Mount Scopus, the road which we followed to Beit Hanani, on the way to Emmaus. It rises to a considerable height, bare stony slopes and limestone outcrop. We dropped slightly and passed near the big modern village of Ramallah, and passed a spring “El Bireh” which is supposed to be the first halting place of the Jerusalem to Galilee caravans, in biblical times probably the same and hence “day’s journey” of Luke 2, 44. Near here, but not on the road so that we did not see it, is the site of Bethel.

The road here drops steeply into a deep valley, rather more fertile than in the Jerusalem area. The earth here is a rich brown so in the distance looks very much like bracken. The valley reminded me very much of some of the Welsh Border country. This valley is called in Arabic “Wadi el Haramiyeh” – “the robber’s valley”. Strategically it is said to be the key of the road North from Jerusalem. But instead of seeing any robbers, we only saw a solitary Palestinian Policeman who stopped the bus and rode into Nablus. One of the young Arabs riding in the bus had a little pipe, on which he played various tunes, mostly English, including many of the National Anthems of the Allies. Near us was a Polish Army Officer with his cadet son, a Syrian graduate of the American University of Beirut, who was conversing with the former in French.

We passed into Samaria and the road wound on and on until after nearly two hours we passed a half-ruined temple or church, on the right, below the road. This covers Jacob’s well, which I am told still gives an ample supply of clean fresh water. Nablus, just beyond, was the first town since Jerusalem. Today it looks much like any other small busy Arab town. Beyond the railway is the inevitable factory – like police station, there is little trace of European influence. The Samaritans still exist in Nablus as a small separate sect, 150 strong, claiming never to have intermarried with other religions and having their own temple and High Priest. They will have nothing whatever to do with the Jews whom they hate as bitterly as the Arabs do. The country beyond Nablus is rather less hilly and more cultivated. On the left we passed the “Tell Dothan” the Dothan of the Bible. Nearby we passed some strings of camels being led along. Near the next town, Jenin, we came in sight of the plain of Esdraclon, ahead, and ran through Jenin stopping at a small native inn in a very rich orchard. Children besieged the bus with grapes, water melons and native cakes and the inevitable mineral–water bottles. The plain appears to be entirely surrounded by hills – to our right was Gilba, on the left a dip in hills marked the approximate site of Megiddo, where I believe extensive archaeological excavations have been carried out. Its position is key to the plain from the West, and hence of a route into Syria explains the importance of the place which is said to have been occupied as long ago as the 3rd millennium BC Hence “Armageddon”?

The small Arab village of Zedrin marks the approximate location of Jezreel where once Ahab’s palace stood. The next town is a Jewish one, Affuleh, the centre for a number of Zionist colonies which are dotted over this part of the plain and the slopes of Little Hermon and Tabor. At Affuleh we crossed the Haifa-Damascus railway. To the right signposts pointed to Naim and Endor which retain their Biblical names (almost) to this day. On the left, as we began to climb out of the plain we saw the Balfour forest, a great area of wooded hillside. Afforestation is the cure for the erosion which has left half Palestine devoid of soil, stones and bare rocks. The road climbs a long, steep hill a spur of Mt. Tabor. Somewhere on this slope is the so-called “Mount of Precipitation” where the men of Nazareth threatened to throw Christ down the almost precipitous slope, rather rare in this part of the country.

We left our packs in the NAAFI at Nazareth, while we went to see the churches. Nazareth is a pleasant village, fairly large for Palestine, built on the slope of a crescent shaped hill. The houses rise steeply one above the other. It has now become the centre of Little Poland – many of the shops had signs in Arabic and Polish, instead of (or as well as) English. A great number of the Polish equivalent to the A.T.S. are stationed here, as well as many others. We walked up the hill, along a by-road, a short distance, to the Church of the Annunciation, where a youngster of 15 or so, presumably an Arab R.C. showed us the grotto of the Annunciation, and then took us up to the Church of St. Joseph and showed us the caves which are supposed to have formed St. Joseph’s carpenter’s shop. They are much like any other caves in Palestine, perhaps partly natural, but certainly improved by man. How they were identified as the carpenter’s shop, we were not told.

The rest of the village is fairly modern. We stopped to have a look at some exorbitantly-priced curios, and returned to the NAAFI for lunch.

After lunch we strolled along to the Galilee bus Co. and caught the next bus to Tiberius. The main road runs along the bottom of the slope which forms the village. A short distance along we saw the well of Nazareth – “Ain Sitti Miriam” in Arabic and literally translated “Our Lady’s Well” in English.

Then we began to climb up the slope, steeply, came to the end of Nazareth with the end of the hill and began the gentle downhill run to Kefr Kenna, or Cana of Galilee, another pleasant but smaller Arab and Christian village. Nazareth and Kefr Kenna are altogether greener and better kept than the average poor Arab village. Whether it be the Christian influence or the comparative abundance of water I do not know, but in Kefr Kenna are trees and gardens. There is quite a number of Christians – the Greeks claim to have two of the actual stone water pots in which Jesus performed his first miracle, but the Romans claim that these are but two baptismal fonts! We did not stop to join in the controversy or see the relics but pushed on along the road which rolls leisurely up and down gentle hills on a sort of plateau reminiscent geographically of the moors at home – in the daytime we could see not the Jordan valley, but the hills of Syria beyond. These gentle slopes are not bare like the Judean country but are all covered with a coarse grass, with many bare patches but none the less the first wild grass I have seen outside Britain.

We rounded a bend and there in front of us lay the Sea of Galilee, as blue as could be. It is completely ringed with hills, although there are no peaked summits in sight. From the top of any of these hills almost the whole of the lake can be seen. We stayed at St. Andrew’s House, the Tiberias Church of Scotland hostel, halfway down the main road from Kefr Kenna. Our room opened onto a wide balcony on which we had a table and chairs. We spent the evening sitting there writing and watching the sea fade into twilight, broken only by vast moor fires, one just behind us on the Palestine side, and one miles away on the Syrian hill sides. Although such fires are sometimes spontaneous, they are apparently more often caused by the Arabs themselves, who take an unfortunate delight in setting fire to their enemies’ grazing lands.

Just before tea however, we went down to the Galilee Lido in Tiberias, a fairly modern, albeit quite small Jewish and Arab town, and I had a swim. The water is glassy smooth, and beautifully clean, and absolutely ideal for swimming. The “lido” which may sound rather a sacrilegious name, is really an old stone-built breakwater, from which one could descend into deep water without having to walk over the shallow and very stony beach.

One can then swim out to and around various small craft and mooring buoys. The place is frequented by Polish boys and girls, local Jews and a few British and dominion and colonial forces.

The evening, as I have already said, we spent in watching the beautiful blue fade into a lovely indistinguishable blackness. We talked to the warden, and elderly Scot., and a civilian visitor of his, who turned to be a Scottish lady teacher at the Unity High School for Girls in Khartoum.